When Elsy, a Filipino-American book nerd, tries to save Littleton's Public Library from closing down, the cutest boy in school helps her while a red leather-bound book keeps magically appearing in the hands of the townsfolk as if the library is tryi...
Autumn had a way of coloring the world with warmth despite the cool weather it brought. A kind of trickster among the seasons, showing the most visually captivating canvass but opening the gates to a time when things died. The leaves on trees burned red and orange. Some had already dropped, turning the tops naked and powdering the grounds with dried and wrinkled pads.
The fallen leaves crunched beneath my boots as I strode along a sidewalk. A chill wind blew against my cheeks. I loved Fall. Despite the trees shedding and the world turning frigid, it was a sign that the most merry of days were near.
My phone chimed in my pocket. I pulled it out and read the message.
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It was a text from my mother--the response to my earlier message on staying out late because I would be at the public library doing my research paper for History class. My mother spoke in Filipino most of the time. She did even in her messages.
Kumain ka meant you're going to eat.
I sighed, hearing my mother's Filipina accent in my head, seeming to nag at me even with the shortest sentences. It wasn't like I was going to stay out beyond ten in the evening. Where would I even go when the public library closed at that time?
I crossed the street at a green walk light and continued down another pedway until I reached the front of Littleton Public Library.
I stopped on the sidewalk and faced the building like always. I stared at the arched entryway under the gable roof portico. My eyes moved to the red-bricked walls of the two-story building and the beautiful radius windows on the first floor. The sight of it placed a smile on my heart.
I walked up the front steps and paused at a statue of a girl with arms flung wide open, welcoming the world, standing beside a Japanese maple tree with fiery red leaves.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Pollyanna," I said to the statue, dipping my head to the side before walking to the entrance, entering the library, and escaping the cold. The building's warmth and silence greeted me.
A woman behind a desk looked up. "Hello, Alice," she said, beaming a smile that wrinkled the sides of her gray eyes.
"Hey, Ms. Clark," I greeted.
"Can I help you with anything today?" Ms. Clark asked.
"Yes, actually. I'm doing a research paper on Littleton's history. I'm wondering if you have any books I can use as reference."
"Oh, yes. We have a couple of books on our shelves for you," Ms. Clark said as she started typing on her computer, likely searching the library's catalog.
The tap-tap-tapping on the keyboard echoed in the unpopulated room. After a few minutes, the printer buzzed and spewed out a list.
Ms. Clark handed the printed paper to me.
I thanked the librarian and headed to the History section under Core Collections on the library's second floor.
There were five books on the list. The first was The History of New Hampshire by Jeremy Belknap. I found it right away, exactly where the catalog had said it would be. "There you are," I said as I pulled it off the shelf between other leather-bound brown and grayish blues books.
